


Give and Take

by Immortalnite



Series: Entwined [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Baker!Patton, Cryptids, M/M, Magic, Multi, Supernatural Elements, hunter!Roman, physician!Logan, witch!Virgil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2020-04-06 22:23:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19071874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immortalnite/pseuds/Immortalnite
Summary: Virgil's perfectly content to live by himself in his little forest hut. He doesn't really care for the people in the nearby village, those who kicked him out when he was just a child with fear and hate in their eyes, all because he had magic. He really couldn't give less of a fuck about their issues. But, he does care about his brother.When Roman comes to tell him that Patton needs his help with some supernatural creature that is tormenting the village, he reluctantly returns to help. It's just one little creature, right? How much trouble could it be?





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to my beta reader and sibling, oraclewithissues

The sun had just broken over the mountains when Virgil woke up. The pale light poured across his blankets to pool on the floorboards, turning them to an ashy brown. Virgil yawned and threw an arm over his eyes, taking a few deep breaths before sitting up. Blearily, he dragged his body out of bed and over to the washbin to splash some water on his face. The water was as cold as always, pulled straight from the glacial pond outside his hut.

Virgil shook his head, flinging crystalline water droplets everywhere. He grabbed a shirt and some pants from the chest at the foot of his bed and pulled them on, wiping his face off on the sleeve as he did so. Fully awake now, he grabbed the bucket of dried corn kernels next to the leather flap he used as a door in the warmer months and headed outside. A low building with various charms hanging from the eaves hugged the side of his hut, and Virgil rapped on the roof of it a few times before entering.

"Morning, ladies."

A few hens startled from their nests when he came in, but most were already excitedly waiting for him. Grabbing a handful of the corn, he scattered it in the loose dirt and went to inspect the nests while his chickens dove at the food. A few had produced some eggs for him, which he gently placed in the corn bucket. Now that he'd fed them the expected corn, the hens would leave their coop and wander around for the rest of the day, only coming back at night to roost in the carefully warded hutch.

Virgil ducked back out of the coop and set the bucket inside the flap to his hut, making a mental note to move the eggs later. He then walked around to the north side of his hut, where he'd steadily built up a vegetable garden. A thatched fence kept animals out, and his monthly full-moon rituals kept harmful insects out. A about a year ago, he and Logan had successfully worked out a pump system for his gardens that used a combination of science and magic to bring water from the pond to the plants every morning, meaning he didn't have to water them. Virgil grinned as he ran his fingers through the leaves of his tomato plant. It was nice to not have to haul a heavy water bucket around the gardens every morning.

He finished up a quick check of the vegetables, picking a few ripe bean pods from where they twined around the lattice archway, and noting any other veggies that looked like they might be ready for picking soon. Heading back around to the front of his hut, he shouldered his way past the flap and grabbed the eggs from the bucket inside the door, bringing both them and the beans to the countertop. Once his hands were free, he grabbed his pair of shears from beside his spice rack and headed back out, this time going to the south side of his hut to inspect his herb garden.

There wasn't too much to do, but he did have to trim a few plants which were threatening to flower, in order to encourage leaf growth. He snipped a few flower heads on his lavender that had almost fully bloomed, tucking those blossoms into his shirt pocket so he wouldn't confuse them. The trimmings he tossed in the compost pile on his way out.

As he walked back into his hut, Virgil reached up to brush his finger tips against the bunches of drying herbs that hung from the rough beams overhead. Most still needed more time, but there was one bunch of lavender leaves that felt ready for use. Grabbing a thin braid of some stripped ivy, Virgil plucked the lavender blossoms from his pocket and wound the ivy thread around the stems a few times, securing it all with a knot. He grabbed his stool from under the washbin and set it up underneath the beam with the dried lavender leaves. Carefully, he undid the knot holding that dried bunch of herbs and pulled it down, sticking the bundle in his pocket before tying the new bunch to the beam.

He walked back to his kitchen area, setting the leaves on the counter next to the beans and eggs. Putting his hands on his hips, Virgil looked at the morning's harvest and contemplated what do to with everything. Two of the eggs he set aside for his breakfast, the third went into the egg bowl on his counter for later use. The lavender leaves he could use to make some more soap, since he was getting down to his last bar. The beans would taste great in a rabbit or venison stew, though he currently didn't have any of either. With a slight frown, he glanced out his window at the treeline.

No, it was three days past the full moon. Roman would only just be getting back from his latest hunting trip today, so he wouldn't be coming by Virgil's hut until tomorrow afternoon. Roman's house was the better part of a day's ride from the pond, but he always made a point of bringing Virgil a portion of his kills after a trip. In exchange, Virgil would cook whatever Roman brought and let him spend the night. In the winter time, when game was harder to find and crops didn't grow, Roman would often spend the better part of a fortnight at Virgil's hut. He claimed it was laziness, but Virgil suspected Roman just enjoyed having someone other than his horse and dogs to talk to. Whatever Roman's motives were, Virgil didn't mind. As much as he complained about Roman stealing blankets when he spent the night, deep down he suspected he was just as glad for the company as Roman.

Virgil shook his head and turned away from the window, grabbing a short knife. The beans themselves would easily keep until tomorrow, when he could make stew with them, but the pods would go brown quickly. Picking one pod up, he drew the knife along the seam of it, splitting it open. With a quick swipe of his thumb, he cleared the beans out so that only the fleshy pod was left. He repeated this with each pod until he had two neat piles of white beans and green pods. He plucked a few beans out to save for his seed stash, then scooped the rest into an empty jar and set them aside for the stew. He grabbed his pan and eggs and walked over to his fireplace, dragging out the heavy cast iron frame that held the pan in place over the fire. It was another joint invention of his and Logan's. Logan had designed the shape, and Virgil had enchanted the frame to channel the heat into the pan, rather than warming up itself. He cracked the two eggs into the pan, then quickly diced the empty bean pods and added them to the pan. Picking a bottle of dried marjoram, he shook a small pile out into his palm and added that to the pan too. When the eggs were done, he pulled the pan off the fire and scraped them onto a wooden plate. It wasn't the best combination, but it was still tasty and filling.

Once he was done with his eggs, he cleaned up his plate and set it on the counter under the window to dry. Walking past the easternmost window, he could feel how the heat of the sun had warmed the floorboards already. What had started out as a comfortably warm morning had quickly turned into a hot day. Virgil sighed. He might as well start on the new batch of soap before the heat got too far into his hut.

Grabbing a small pot from next to his fireplace, he filled it with water and set it on the hook above the flames to begin heating. He then turned back to his kitchen area and began scanning the shelves underneath his counters, eventually locating the jar of beef tallow that Patton had brought in his visit a few months ago. He wouldn't need it for a few hours yet, but he knew from experience that the jar would disappear as soon as it was actually required. He grabbed the dried bundle of lavender leaves, setting them on the counter next to the tallow jar. He'd found it was best to keep the leaves whole until he actually put them into the soap mix, that way they retained as much scent as possible.

He checked the pot over the fire to make sure it wasn't boiling yet, then grabbed another, medium sized pot from under the washbin. His two remaining bars of soap were still in it, so he moved them temporarily to the rectangular wooden box he used to shape the soap. He set that in the washbin, then hunted around for the cheesecloth he used for making lye. It took him a few moments to realise that it was actually just in a ball at the bottom of the pot in the washbin.

Shaking his head at himself, Virgil removed the cheesecloth and stretched it loosely across the top of the pot, folding it over on itself several times. He secured it to the handles of the pot with some ivy twine, tying the knot so that he could easily pull it free. Once that was done, he carefully scooped several handfuls of ash from the front of his fireplace, carrying it carefully in a dustpan to the washbin. He dumped them into the cheesecloth and patted them out so the ash lay relatively evenly. By now, the pot over the fire was boiling, so Virgil pulled it off and brought it over to the washbin, careful to not bring the pot too close to his body. He slowly poured the steaming water over the ashes, watching as grey liquid pooled in the dip of the cheesecloth before sinking through to drip into the pot below. Once all the water was through, he set the empty pot on the counter and carefully undid the ivy twine. He moved the cheesecloth to the smaller pot, redoing the twine fastenings. Then, he hefted the other pot, now full of steaming ash-water, and repeated the process. He did this back and forth about twice more, until the water was solidly grey. He poured the mixture back into the larger of the two pots, and carried the concoction over to the fire. He hung it on the hook over the fire and sighed. Now all he had to do was wait a few hours for it to thicken.

Virgil balled up the cheesecloth with the ash still in it and grabbed a bar of soap. While he had a bit of a break, it was probably past time for him to get a bath. His clothes could really use a wash, too. He stuck the bar of soap in his shirt pocket and headed towards the pond, stopping by the vegetable garden as he did so. He shook as much of the wet ashes as he could out into the squash beds, carefully breaking up some of the clumps with his finger and pushing them into the soil. The cheesecloth was still stained grey, but at least most of the actual ash was out.

When Virgil reached the bank of the pond, he sighed and stripped his clothes off. No matter how hot the days got, the pond was always as cold as ice. It was fed by runoff streams from the perpetually ice-capped mountains around the forest, so it never truly warmed up. Virgil took a deep breath and began to wade in. He had to stop for a moment when he reached his upper thighs, to mentally prepare himself for the next part. Closing his eyes, he swiftly lowered himself into the water until it came up to just above his navel. The cold was absolutely biting, but the worst part was over now. He unclenched his fist from around his balled up clothes and stretched the fabric out in the water, grabbing the bar of soap before it could sink. He walked backwards in the water until he was actually standing, dragging his clothes and the cheesecloth behind him as he went. He could feel a few minnows nipping at his legs in curiosity. He pulled the cheesecloth towards him first, dragging it around in the water a bit to get as much as of the ash out as possible. Once he was satisfied, he tossed it towards the makeshift dock that was just past where the stream fed into the pond. With a little bit of magical assistance, it flew the distance easily and draped over the edge to dry. His pants and shirt weren't as easy, and required quite a bit of scrubbing to get some of the dirt stains out of, but he eventually got it done. They joined the cheesecloth in drying on the dock.

Once he was done with his clothes, he turned to himself and began to scrub down his entire body, letting a week's worth of sweat and grime float away. A few spots actually required him to dredge up a handful of sand from the bottom of the pond to scrub at his skin with. By the time he was done, his entire body was pink and stung a little, but he felt cool and clean. The soap was mostly used up, so Virgil just let it sink. A few steps away from where he'd stopped, the bottom of the pond dropped off sharply into a deep network of underwater caves that Virgil had never quite found the bottom of. He pushed off towards the center, letting his lower body drift upwards so that he was lying just below the surface of the water, with only his head sticking up. The sun beat down on his face, but the water lapping at his cheeks turned it into a pleasently warm caress. He couldn't hear anything but muted birdsong and the occasional quiet ping as a dragonfly landed near him in the water. Virgil closed his eyes. On days like this, he liked to imagine that the crevice below him went all the way to the center of the earth, and he was just floating there above everything. In his mind's eye, the constant thrum of magic under his skin kept time with the heartbeat of world, forging a silken connection between him and all other living creatures, a glossamer web of life that stretched out to connect everything together. The heartbeat grew louder, and images of someone else's making formed in his head. Birds flitting through dead branches and lizards crawling between shattered stones, Patton offering a flower to a young child outside his bakery. Roman striding elegantly under an emerald canopy on horseback, Logan turning yellowed pages with gentle fingers. A stag with curling antlers standing guard in a clearing, a cowering speckled fawn hidden in the underbrush. A fox dragging a hare carcass back to the den, a litter of kits opening their tiny eyes to see sunlight for the first time.

The images slowly faded from his mind until Virgil settled back into his body. Every part of him felt relaxed and wide awake at the same time. He opened his eyes slowly and simply stared up into the blue sky for a few moments before he let his body drift into a vertical position. With lazy strokes, he swam back to the shore and walked up onto the land. Out of the water, his body almost felt heavy. He shook it off quickly, though, and looked up at the sun to check how much time had passed. He could never tell when he went into a trance like that. This time, the sun looked to be quite a bit lower in the sky, almost ready to set. A quick glance at the dock confirmed that his clothes were still not completely dry. Shaking his water out of his hair, he walked back to his house. It was hot, and he didn't really feel like putting too many clothes on, but he didn't really want to walk around naked either. Too vulnerable. He eventually settled on a skirt he'd made from some fabrics that Logan had been kind enough to bring him. It had two layers, one of some see-through green material with a flower patterning that Logan had assured him was the latest fashion in the capitol, and a light but solid underlayer of a gold fabric that seemed to shimmer in the sun. It was loose and pretty and Virgil enjoyed the way it brushed around his ankles when he walked. He did a quick spin, just to see it flare out a bit, then headed back outside so the sun could dry him off completely.

He walked along the bank of the pond towards the dock and his drying clothes. Once he got there, he tried to squeeze as much water from the fabric as possible, though it didn't really help all that much. Since the lye probably still needed a bit longer to simmer down, he decided to go check his fish trap. Standing on the end of the dock, he could see a short way up the river that fed his pond, just up to the bend. The fish trap split off from the bend, but he couldn't see if anything was in it from the dock. He walked back off the dock and followed the bank up stream a little ways, until he got to the bend. The river came all the way from the mountains, and while it had significantly decreased in size by the time it got to him, the sheer breadth of it further north meant he could actually catch fish in his trap and didn't need to use a pole in his pond. His fish trap sat in a hollow in the side of the stream, where the river billowed out to be nearly as wide as his hut was across. A line of sticks on both sides in the shape of a funnel meant that a fish could easily swim with the current, between the two rows of poles into the pool in the side of the bank, but would have a much harder time getting out. Sure enough, there was one fish in the trap today, swimming around lazily. Virgil hiked his skirt up and tucked the ends into his waistband before jumping in. The fish startled at his entry, but with nowhere to really go, it wasn't difficult for Virgil to catch the squirming thing and slam its head into a rock. He scaled and gutted it right there with the knife he kept near the trap for such purposes, letting the current carry the entrails downriver. When he was done, he brought the two cuts of fish back to his hut. Half, he set into a pan on the counter to cook in a little bit. The other half, he diced and took out to his vegetable garden. He buried a few chunks here and there, making sure every row got at least two fish chunks. Virgil made sure to keep his distance from the pond when he walked back into his hut. The entrails of the fish he'd gutted would have definitely made it downriver by now, and he didn't want to take his chances with whatever might have smelled the blood. He didn't think anything in there would hurt him, but he didn't really know what lived in those caves.

Back inside, he checked the pot over the fire. The lye had reduced nicely, and a quick stir confirmed that the consistency had changed drastically. It was now fairly thick, and a much darker grey. Virgil left the stirring spoon in the pot and grabbed the tallow jar from the counter. He carefully upended it into the pot, trying hard to not let it splash out. The lump began to roll around in the boiling lye immediately, and Virgil decided it was time to add the lavender. While the tallow began to melt, he picked up the bundle of lavender leaves and plucked one stem out. Holding it over the pot, he rolled the leaves between his fingers until they crumbled and fell into the hot mixture below. He repeated this for each stem, until he was left with a handful of pale green sticks. He stirred them into the mixture, pushing the last bit of solid tallow around until it smoothed out. Now, all it needed was to boil for a bit longer. By the time Virgil had eaten dinner, it should be ready.

While it bubbled over the fire, Virgil got his pan out and slapped the fish down in it. He grabbed the jar containing dill from his spice rack and sprinkled some into the palm of his hand. He brushed it off over the fish and the started to work the seasoning into the meat with his fingers. Once he was satisfied with that, he walked over to the trap door beside his fireplace that opened to a collection of shallow pits where he stored his root vegetables. It wasn't as big or as deep as Virgil would have liked, but he hadn't exactly thought out how to build a house with a functional root cellar when he started living here.

He retrieved a potato that was roughly the size of his fist and brought it to the washbin to scrub the dirt off. When it was clean, he sliced it into thick medallions and placed them in the pan around the fish. He then dragged the frame back out and set it over the fire, a bit in front of where the soap pot was still bubbling, and set the pan on the frame.

As he cooked the fish, he let his mind drift a bit. Unlike in the pond, he didn't let himself leave his body, but instead just listened. Though he was sometimes lonely by himself, it was nice to be able to open himself up without the hectic sounds of city life to clutter up his head. The forest felt so much cleaner, so much calmer. Today, though, he felt a sort of heaviness in the air. It was similar to the weight of the forest before a storm came, but the sensation wasn't quite the same. Something bad was coming. No, not quite bad. Rather... Momentous. Yes, that was it. Something big and momentous was coming, and Virgil was sure he wouldn't enjoy all of it.

He pulled the pan off the fire and scraped the fish and potatoes onto his plate to eat. Sometimes he wished he had more of a sense for the future, but that had never been a strong suit of his. He'd never been able to get more than a vague feeling, one he usually missed unless he specifically went looking for it. Seeing through time was a tricky thing, and Virgil had come to love the power that he had. It kept him grounded and connected, and he would never complain about that.

Once he finished his meal, he cleaned the pan and plate before going to check on the soap. It had thickened nicely from the added tallow, and was definitely ready for the next step. Virgil got the open topped box out from under the washbin, moving the last bar of soap to the counter. He set the box in front of the fireplace and carefully reached out to take the soap pot down from the hook. Without burning himself, he managed to pour the hot soap out into the box, watching as it slowly evened out. It would probably take a day or two to fully set before he could cut it into bars, but that was just fine. The soap pot he left on the stone in front of the fireplace to cool down a bit.

Glancing out his window, he saw one of his hens scurry across the forest edge back to the coop as the last rays of sunlight began to fade behind tree trunks. It was probably time for bed. He secured the edges of the flap he used for a door so that nothing could get in easily, and double checked that none of the herbs in the warding charm over his doorway had fallen out. Everything was in place, so he made his way back to his bed. Roman would be there tomorrow, and the two of them could face whatever event Virgil had sensed together. It would be fine. Probably.


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a hot second since I posted, I've had a surprising amount of school work that came up. Also, content warning for some gore. It's the section inside the asterisks, Virgil preps a rabbit for cooking

It was nearly sunset the next day when Virgil felt Roman arriving. He knew something was off almost immediately, though he couldn't quite pin down how. Maybe it was the tight set of Roman's jaw, the furrows in his brow, the tension in his shoulders. Or just that he'd arrived hours later than he usually did. Whatever the reason, Virgil didn't get a chance to mention it.

As soon as Roman spotted Virgil in front of the hut, his face broke into a brilliant smile. It lit up his whole face, and Virgil couldn't help but reply in kind. He leaned his hip against the door frame of his hut and lifted a hand on greeting with a smirk.

"How was your trip, brave hunter?" Virgil called teasingly.

Roman swung down from his horse, his oiled game sack heavy on his back. He pulled it off and handed it to Virgil with a flourish. "Here is your prize, my dark prince. Two fat rabbits!"

Virgil accepted the sack, bouncing it in his hand with a frown, as though weighing it. "Eh, it'll work. I'll start on dinner."

*

He flashed a smirk as he spun into the house, leaving Roman to deal with his horse. He took the bag to his kitchen area and upended it on the counter. Sure enough, two nicely sized rabbits. They seemed quite fresh, too. He grabbed a knife and made an incision on the belly of the first one, and pulled the skin off the abdomen with a couple quick tugs. The back legs took a little encouragement to get out, but the hide slid off the back easily otherwise. He worked the front half up to the base of the skull, then twisted the head off with a quick wrist motion. The feet he cut off and set aside. Next, Virgil carefully gutted the rabbit, keeping the heart and liver. The liver was a deep red, which meant the rabbit was healthy and safe to eat. He ran some water over the meat to clear off any loose hair, then started working on removing the silverskin, and excess fat. He removed the legs, and cut the belly meat away from the spine and ribs. The pelvis, neck, and ribcage he set aside and began to repeat the process with the second rabbit.

*

When he was done, he grabbed his stew pot and put some water in, then added the meat from one rabbit and the boney parts of both. The beans from the previous day he added in, along with a few stalks of celery and a small wild onion, both chopped finely. He put a lid over it and set it near the fire, close enough that it would cook and the bones would release their flavour, but not close enough that it could boil over. Using the legs of the other rabbit, he grabbed a pan and started on dinner for him and Roman.

As he was rubbing herbs into the meat, Roman walked in.

"Anything I can do to help?"

Roman's hair was messy and there was a wet mark on his cheek.

"Wash your hands and you can cut the rest of the rabbit into strips." Virgil smiled at him. "Did your horse give you trouble?"

"Lady was just tired after all the riding we've been doing." Roman tried to fix his hair with his fingers and stuck his tongue out at Virgil. "I hung the tack on your chicken coop, as usual."

The two of them settled into their usual routine, Roman regaling Virgil with his hunting adventures while Virgil cooked. There was a brief pause when Roman left to hang the strips of rabbit in the drying hut outside, but when he returned he settled by the fire, close to Virgil, to continue his story as Virgil finished cooking their dinner.

After their meal was done, Roman helped Virgil clean up. They left the stew to continue cooking overnight and got ready for bed. Virgil got in first, facing towards the fireplace as he always did. He felt the bed dip as Roman got in, and mumbled out a sleepy goodnight.

Maybe it was something in the tone of Roman's reply, or the slight rustling of the hairs on the back of his neck when he spoke, but somehow Virgil knew that Roman wasn't back to back with him like usual. No, not only was Roman facing him, but something was wrong. After a moment of hesitation, Virgil sighed and flipped over. Sure enough, Roman's eyes were looking right at him, slightly widened in surprise.

"What's bothering you?" Virgil spoke softly, peering into Roman's eyes for any indication of the issue.

Roman said nothing for a long moment, simply staring back at Virgil. His dark eyes reflected the firelight in them, giving them a sort of deep warmth.

"My dog just had a litter. Want one? I've already promised one to Pat, and I'd like to keep some of them, to grow the pack and all but I'd be hap-"

"You're deflecting." Virgil cut him off. "Of course I'll take a pup, it'd be great to have some company, but that's not what's bothering you."

Roman sighed. Under the blankets, his hand found Virgil's and started idly lacing their fingers together. He brought their joined hands up and peered at them as though the contrast between his skin and Virgil's much lighter skin was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.

"The village needs help."

Virgil rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Good for them. What do I care?"

Roman sighed softly. "I know you don't care for them, but they could really use your help on this one."

"Don't care for them? Roman, they drove me out of the village when I was just a child." Virgil laughed bitterly. "Even if I was willing to help, which I'm not, there's little chance they would even permit me to get close enough to help."

Roman finally looked away from their joined hands and locked eyes with him. "What if they didn't know? What if only Patton and I knew?"

Virgil jerked at the mention of Patton's name. "I... Does this problem put Patton in danger?"

"Not immediately, but it's possible he could be in danger eventually."

Virgil sighed. "Fine. Tell me what the issue is."

Roman beamed at him for a moment before starting. "There was a farmer, lived out on the edge of town, who started having some problems with his chickens. He'd come into market in the mornings, complaining about how something was snatching up his hens. He actually blamed me at first, said that I needed to train my dogs better so that they wouldn't go sneaking into his coop at night."

Roman frowned at the slight to his dogs. "Anyway, I went on a hunting trip a few days after he accused my dogs, so I wasn't around for the next part of the story. According to Patton, he didn't visit the market for a while, but when he did return, he looked like he'd been through hell. Unshaven, eyebags like bruises, his feet clawed bloody. He claimed the thing that had been stealing his chickens was a monster and that it was after him. He said that every night, it clawed further up his bed promising to kill him when it reached his head."

"The villagers didn't believe him, naturally. You know how they are. They called him paranoid, crazy, said he'd been living alone for to long. Five days later, the sightings started. A woman walking home after dark said she saw burning yellow eyes in an alleyway. Chickens started going missing. Any meat or other food left outside, or in drying huts was eaten during the night. Dogs would suddenly start barking at the doors after midnight. The day I got back, the butcher asked me to join him and a few others who were going to that farmer's house to ask him about the creature, fearing it had come to the village. I agreed. When we got there, it was the worst thing I'd ever seen. The door was broken in, furrows a knuckle deep in the wood. The furniture was shattered, everything that could be broken was in pieces. And the farmer, what was left of him, was still lying in bed. His chest was flayed so badly we could see the bones peeking out between the flies. He must have been dead for a couple days by the time we got there, because he was already crawling with maggots. The stench was awful." Roman shuddered. "I've been asked to trap whatever the creature is."

Virgil closed his eyes and sighed. "It could just be a bear or a wolf."

"It could." Roman agreed. "But it's not, and you know that as well as I do."

Roman was right. Virgil didn't know what it was, but he could feel the sense of wrongness about the story, like an itch he couldn't quite reach. Whatever it was that prowled through the village, it wasn't good. It wasn't natural.

"Will the villagers even let me close enough to do anything?" Virgil asked softly.

Roman's eyes crinkled, he knew he'd won. "They won't even know you're there. It'll just be me and Pat."

"Fine, then. We can leave tomorrow morning." Virgil closed his eyes and rolled back over, a huff escaping his lips.

Behind him, he felt Roman turn back around too, and could practically sense the smile on his face. "Sleep well."

"Yeah, you too."

~*~

The next morning, Virgil packed up the stew and went about checking on his plants and chickens. Technically, his hut was perfectly capable of functioning autonomously for however long the trip would take, but it made him feel better to check.

A little while after dawn, he and Roman were off. It was a quiet ride, Roman focused on the trail ahead and Virgil focused on the forest to either side of them. His eyes trailed over the different markings on the trees, scratch marks for bucks and bears. Some where high and old, others new and low. The underbrush was thick, but there were tell-tale gaps in it where rabbits and squirrels frequently ran through. Overhead, Virgil could catch glimpses of hawks wheeling through the open air above the forest, carried out in wide loops by drafts. Occasionally, one of the more daring birds would dive through the leaves of the canopy, shooting between boughs at breakneck speeds before alighting on a branch or sweeping back out into the sky.

Once, they passed by a group of deer that had been grazing in a clearing. At the sound of their approach, their heads all shot up and they stood motionless, watching Virgil and Roman’s passing with their dark eyes.

As they got closer to the village, Virgil began to get glimpses of the mountain range that stretched along the northern border of the forest. The mountains to the north were savage things, jagged and craggy peaks that jutted up from the ground like broken glass. Today, as with most days, a storm was brewing on the other side of them. Dark clouds reached through the thin peaks like scrambling fingers, illuminated with flashes of lightning. The accompanying rumble of thunder was so distant that Virgil had to strain his ears to hear it at all. There was an ocean on the other side of the mountains that produced all those clouds, but the northern mountains were too high for them to ever get over, so they dumped all their rain in the peaks. It worked out well for the village down below, since the runoff from the mountains fed the river that they irrigated their crops from, but the rain never came down into the valley to flood them.

The mountains that bordered the forest to the west and south, where Virgil lived, were much lower and allowed rain to pass over them. It was wetter in the forest, but Virgil didn’t mind it. In fact, he loved it. There was something soothing about watching rain fall, and he enjoyed feeling it on his skin. Village life had always been a little too dry, in his opinion.

When Roman’s cabin finally came into view, the barking from inside started up almost immediately. With a delighted cry, Virgil swung himself off Lady’s back and practically ran inside, ignoring Roman’s protests.

On the floor in front of Roman’s fireplace, his two dogs were lying. Duchess was on her side, licking at five little bodies that were tucked into her belly. When Virgil entered, Duke stood up and began wagging his tail, though he didn’t leave Duchess. Virgil approached them instead, his hands out for inspection.

After a quick sniff, Duchess was apparently satisfied and moved her head aside so that he could look at her puppies. There were two puppies that had taken on the colour of their father, Duke, a reddish-gold colour. One had taken after Duchess’s milk colour, and one had mixed the two into a tawny sort of colour. The last puppy looked like neither of them, and was dark brown with a white spot on his nose. Virgil knew right away which one he wanted.

The door closed softly and Roman joined him beside the dogs, reaching out a hand to give Duke a pat.

“They won’t be ready to leave their mom for about two more moons. After that, though, you and Patton can decide which two you want.” As Roman said Patton’s name, the dogs both looked at the door expectantly. A moment later, there was a soft knock.

“Ah, speak of the devil.” Roman got up, offering a hand to Virgil, before going to answer the door. He opened it to reveal a young man with bright blue eyes in a cheerful, round face.

“Hey, Roman- Virgil!”

Virgil had scarcely a moment to prepare himself before his younger brother had launched himself at him, momentarily lifting him off the ground.

“Pat!” Virgil coughed out a laugh. “Good to see you too, please put me down.”

Patton giggled and did as he asked, stepping back. He raised up the basket he’d been holding in his off hand, bringing it to Virgil’s attention for the first time. “I did bring you those grape jelly rolls that you love, though.”

“You’re the best!” Virgil leaned down to hug him again, sticking his tongue out at Roman as his friend tried to snatch a roll from the basket, unsuccessfully.

“I am.” Patton beamed for a moment, then his face fell into something more serious. “Let’s go sit down, boys. We have a lot to discuss.”

Virgil stood up straighter and nodded, looking over to Roman. Roman nodded back and lead them towards his little kitchen table.

They took places across from each other, the basket of sweets set to the side.

“Did anything new happen last night?” Roman asked, leaning towards Patton.

Patton hesitated, then nodded. “It’s not a big deal, all things considered, but new scratches appeared on Pete’s door. He’s the butcher. Nothing else happened, but the marks have really riled some people up. You know how some of the women can get when they think their children could be in danger.”

Virgil knew that all too well. “Are you safe, Pat?”

“I’m fine.” There was a slight pause in his voice. “But it’s best for everyone if this animal is taken care of quickly.”

“Do you kno-”

“Who are they blaming?” Virgil cut off Roman, his hands tight on his knees. “Which person are they going to make the scapegoat for all their problems this time?”

Roman looked startled, but Patton held Virgil’s gaze steadily. “Logan. It’s Logan.”

“Those superstitious bastards.” Virgil hissed, the basket on the table starting to rock slightly. In the corner, Duke whined as some dust fell from the ceiling. “They’ve always got to have someone to blame, haven’t they?”

“Virgil!” Patton barked. “Relax!”

“If something happens that’s just a little bit weird, they immediately point fingers and call it the work of the devil, never once considering that maybe they’re the awful ones.” Virgil’s fingernails were digging into the sides of his legs, the table and everything around them shaking. Outside, the bushes near Roman’s house were trembling and lashing vines were starting to creep out of the forest.

Roman and Patton shot each other a wide-eyed look.

Roman lurched up from his chair and threw his arms around Virgil, pulling him tight against his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry they did that to you, you didn’t deserve it.”

The house groaned around them, then quieted. Gradually, Patton watched the thrashing plants outside settle, the shaking house still, and the basket on the table rock back into equilibrium.

The tension flowed out of Virgil and he sagged into Roman’s body. “I’m sorry, guys. I lost control again.”

“It’s ok, Vi.” Roman tucked Virgil’s head under his chin. “The sooner we trap this thing, the sooner we can all go back to normal, and they’ll leave Logan alone.”

“You know they won’t. They haven’t trusted him since he came back from the capital. All this will do is buy him more time before they toss him out like they tossed me out.” Virgil’s voice was muffled from where his face was pressed into Roman’s collarbone, but the bitterness in his tone was as clear as day. “But sure, let’s work on this thing.”

Virgil unwound himself from Roman hesitantly and they sat down in their chairs again. No one said anything when Virgil took a jelly roll from the basket. “Does there appear to be a pattern in where this thing has been showing up in the village?”

Patton’s eyes flicked between him and Roman for a moment before settling. “No, there isn’t. It shows up randomly each night, in different parts of the village. It’s apparently pretty stealthy, so it might be easier if you split up. Make it more difficult for it to evade you.”

“Good idea.” Roman nodded. “I can’t really bring both my dogs, but Duke might be willing to come out with us. Dogs are sensitive to whatever it is, so he can help at least one of us.”

“Duke should stick with you. I think I’ll be able to sense whatever it is.” Virgil looked away. “I’ll try not to do anything rash.”

“Do whatever you need to protect yourself.” Roman said firmly. “This thing seems to be too big for any traps I have, and we know it is dangerous. Whatever you need to do, do.”


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil and Roman go out hunting

After night fell, Virgil and Roman walked Patton back to his bakery with strict instructions to bolt the door and not come out until sunrise. Then, they split up.

Roman agreed to cover the north part of the village while Virgil swept the south. As they'd agreed on, Duke went with Roman. He was unusually subdued, and Virgil couldn't tell if he was worn out from the puppies, or could simply sense the tension that seemed to bleed into the night air from everywhere. Virgil watched Roman and and his dog disappear around the corner of a house and head off before turning to go do his own patrolling.

The streets were silent and dark, windows in the surrounding buildings firmly shuttered. He wondered if the villagers always shuttered their windows at night, or if fear of this creature drove them to lock their houses at night. He couldn't remember what it had been like when he'd still lived in the village. The only windows which held any light in them were that of the church, and the tower. The candles in the church were always kept burning, a tribute to Sun god of the villagers. And the tower, well, that was where Logan lived. 

On the one hand, Virgil knew Logan probably was too engrossed in a book to have even noticed the time, an endearing habit which Virgil loved him for. On the other hand, Virgil knew firsthand how the small-minded villagers treated those who didn't conform. Fear turned even the kindest cruel, and Logan didn't have the same powers to protect himself that Virgil did. 

He walked down a long row of houses, the road under his bare feet turning from worn cobblestone to packed dirt as he got further from the square. The night air was still warm, but it definitely held the promise of cooler days to come. Between two houses, Virgil turned and slipped into the shadows under the eaves. He didn't know why he did it, but it seemed correct. These houses were dark inside, no candles in the windows or flame in the fireplaces. Virgil could feel the people inside them, only one or two per house, all sleeping. The wind blew softly, and he pretended that it didn't sound like a whispered warning. 

He kept walking, turning between houses, pretending he made the choices at random. He fought to ignore the nagging feeling in the back of his head that he was headed somewhere, that he was being  _ lead _ . 

At first, it was just a feeling. But, as the stars slowly moved overhead, that feeling was accompanied by a flickering shadow in the corner of his eye. He realised that, while his own footsteps were still nearly inaudible, some of his movements were followed by a sound like brushing fabric. Occasionally, he would get a creeping sensation in his chest and he would spin around, just barely managing to catch a flash of fur. Once, he saw a quick glimpse of luminous yellow eyes. 

Virgil knew he was being stalked, and he knew better than to think he could physically overpower the creature. He’d need to trick it, and he’d need to use his magic. He began weaving through the houses again, not bothering to hide his increased speed. He could feel the creature following him closely, like he’d hoped it would. He didn’t know where he was headed at first, but his feet seemed to be carrying him towards the bridge out of town. He remembered a conversation he’d had with Logan one day, about the properties of running water. There was a chance the creature wouldn’t be able to cross over it. And if it could, well, at least that would give him a clue about its nature. 

He made it to the bridge, and instantly knew it was crossing. The sound of footfalls echoed behind him, claws clicking on the stone, too loud and too close. Virgil stopped suddenly and spun around to face the creature. 

It was odd, not quite like anything he’d seen before. It was like a cat in some ways, a dog in others, and wholly unlike both creatures. Its face was short and horizontal, glowing yellow eyes with slit pupils illuminating a snub nose and a maw that was too wide and too human for comfort. Its body was shapeless, a twisting mass of black fur that seemed to fade in and out of shadows. Its paws were like holes in the stone, large and black, but with bone-white talons poking out. It crept closer and closer, forcing Virgil to back off the bridge. 

He got the unsettling feeling that he was only permitted to see his pursuer now because the creature believed him cornered. Unfortunately for the creature, it was backing him into the forest, and the forest was Virgil’s domain. 

A stick broke under his heel and the creature dropped to a crouch, sliding forward on its belly. Fur rasped against stone, then went quiet as the creature reached the end of the bridge. It lunged. 

Virgil closed his eyes and stepped to the side, reaching out to the forest for help. There was a loud crack overhead, and the ground itself seemed to shake as a massive tree limb crashed down onto the hind legs of the creature. The creature lay still on the ground. 

Virgil opened his eyes again and stared down at it. Distantly, he heard a dog barking and knew Roman was coming to investigate the noise. The creature stared up at him, yellow eyes dimmed with pain. Through the pain, though, Virgil could see hate. 

No, that wasn’t quite right. He could  _ feel  _ the hate.

Most animals didn’t have enough intelligence to project more than light impressions of their emotions. Most animals didn’t have complicated emotions. They felt fear, happiness, hunger, sleepiness, anger. General, unfocused feelings based on physical sensations. But this creature was feeling hate. Bright, sharp, strong, and directed at Virgil. Somehow, this creature knew that Virgil was the cause for the pain it now felt, and it despised him for it. Shaken, Virgil got up and left the creature, struck with a sudden urge to find Roman, to not be left alone with this thing and its glaring eyes. 

He hurried back over the bridge, listening for Duke’s barks. He found Roman and Duke near the square, heading towards him quickly. 

“Virgil!” In his obvious worry, Roman forgot that it was the dead of night and nearly yelled his name. 

Virgil quickly made a shushing motion with his hand and Roman looked mildly guilty. As soon as he got near, though, he reached out to grab Virgil and inspect him thoroughly for any injuries. His shoulders sagged in relief when he didn’t find any. 

“What happened? We heard a loud crash.” He asked, his voice hushed appropriately. 

“I found the creature.” Virgil grabbed one of the hands that Roman had placed on his shoulder and squeezed it lightly. “It tracked me over the bridge out of town, and I brought a tree branch down on top of it. C’mon, I’ll show you.”

He hurried back towards the creature, feeling much bolder now that he had Roman and Duke with him. As soon as they got to the bridge, however, a sinking feeling formed in his stomach. There was something wrong with the silhouette of the fallen branch, but he was too far away to be able to tell. When they got closer, he summoned up a floating orb of light and saw the issue. 

Where the creature had been, there now was only a bloody rut in the ground and a strip of black fur. The creature had managed to dig itself free in the time he’d been gone, sacrificing its tail to do so. 

Duke approached the empty trap, sniffed it, and then backed away whining. Whatever he smelled of the creature, he didn’t like it. Virgil couldn’t blame him. There was something terribly off about the blood it had left behind. It seemed too dark and too pungent, and the tang of it was just a little bit off from what it should have been. 

Roman looked troubled by the whole scene. Kneeling down, he gingerly picked up the tail and placed it into a little leather bag at his waist. He touched the ground with his fingertips, traced the scores left in the bloody mud, and looked into the forest where the trail seemed to lead. 

“Tomorrow, Patton will take this to Logan and we’ll go try to track the thing. With any luck, it’ll either be easy to find, or it will have moved on.” Roman’s voice was somber, like he could sense the bad aura that the scene seemed to have even without any magic. Virgil nodded blankly, and followed Roman and Duke back to their house.

 When they got back, Virgil and Roman washed up and got into bed together. Neither of them spoke, but Virgil could tell that Roman lay awake at least as long as he did, equally unsettled by the night’s events. He could only hope that the morning would bring some answers. 

~*~

The next morning, he gave as good of a description as he could to Patton, along with the tail. In the light of day, it seemed even more uncanny, somehow. It was the shape of a cat’s tail, but the structure of a dog’s. Thick yet slender, boneless near the top. The hair was long and wiry like a broom, and the colour was a horrifying black with flashes of a deep red-brown, like old blood. It had a faintly sour smell, and no other odor. Every part of him screamed that it was unnatural. 

Even Patton, usually so cheery and bright, was clearly affected by it. He tried to hide it, but there was just the slightest flinch to his hands when he took it from Virgil, and something strange about the way he avoided eye contact as he folded it into a scrap of cloth. He promised to return with news from Logan by the evening, and then hurried from Roman’s house without a further word. 

Virgil went into the forest with Roman and Duke during the day, trying to track down the creature. He was little help when it came to the more traditional tracking methods, but it didn’t matter much. The creature somehow left no recognisable footprints, and neither Virgil nor Roman had any idea what the scat of the creature might look like. It left no tufts of strange fur, so the only available method to them was to try to use Duke to follow the trail of broken brush, smeared dirt, and disgusting blood that it had left the night before. A couple of times, Roman idly lamented not having tried to follow the creature the night before, when the trail would have still been fresh, but Virgil didn’t mind. Privately, he suspected that Roman was as secretly relieved as he was with their ill luck in finding the creature. 

That night, Patton returned with the tail and no knowledge for them, confessing that he’d been unable to find Logan all day. He hadn’t been in his tower, Patton claimed, and he’d had no luck waiting for him in the square. 

There was something strange about it, the way Patton still wouldn’t quite meet Virgil’s eyes. Virgil told himself that Patton most likely had not looked very hard for Logan, and felt guilty about it. That was okay, in his opinion. Patton probably thought they’d scared the creature off, and he had a business to run besides. It wasn’t reasonable to make him wait around Logan’s tower all day. 

With a whole day more or less wasted by fruitless searches, Virgil and Roman decided that Virgil should stay one more night. If morning came, and no signs of the creature’s rampage were to be found in the town, then they would assume it had moved on. Roman would take Virgil back, and he’d be on his own until Roman’s next visit. If morning brought them damage or death in the town, then he would stay. 

For what he hoped was only one more night, Virgil got into bed with Roman and struggled into sleep. 

~*~

Sometime after midnight, Virgil woke. At first, he didn’t know what had woken him. Slowly, he came to the realisation that he could not move his limbs. He drew in breath through his nose, but everything else was frozen. Around him, he could hear the deep inhales of Roman, the wet huffs of the dogs, and one other. A strange, drier inhale that sounded far too close. There was a weight on his feet, Virgil realised. A weight like Duke had flopped himself across the end of the bed. But Duke was near the fireplace, with Duchess and the pups. Virgil could feel them, could feel their bodies curled around each other in his mind. Slowly, he turned his power to the bed, sensing himself and Roman next to him, the other man still fast asleep. Apprehensive, he turned his mind to the other prescence in the room. 

It was a bright mind, not large and obvious, but strong. Too strong for an animal, too wrong for a human. And it  _ hated _ .

Virgil’s eyes flew open, the only part of his body that responded to his sudden realisation. Yellow eyes stared back at him, reflecting off of yellowed teeth that were bared. The teeth were as unnatural as the rest of the creature, some rounded and human, some jagged and snarled, every one as sharp as knives. The creature slunk up the bed, creeping in a sinewy motion that Virgil could feel, a muscles moving in a way that was unfamiliar to him. It reached his knees and stopped, jaw hovering a few hairs above the quilt. 

**_“Give me back my taily-po.”_ **

The voice came, and Virgil couldn’t tell if it was spoken aloud or in his mind. The jaw of the creature didn’t move, but he could see some strange flesh working in time with the words, behind the teeth, too far back into a throat that couldn’t be that deep. 

“I don’t have it.” Virgil whispered, his jaw locking up on him even as he struggled to move his tongue. It was true, he’d given the tail to Patton and never gotten it back. He hoped that was, in fact, what the creature was after. If not, then he had no idea. 

**_“You took it from me. Give it back!”_ **

The voice came again, more horrific than before. Now, the sound had a metallic screech to it, and Virgil guessed it must be in his head because otherwise it would have woken Roman, who still slept beside him. 

“Roman.” Virgil hissed, his body still refusing to respond but his mouth slowly coming around. Roman didn’t move. The creature’s mouth began to open wider. 

“Roman.” 

The creature’s fur scraped against the quilt.

“Roman!”

Its chin touched Virgil’s leg.

“Duke!”

Virgil gave up on trying to wake Roman and called for the dog. Instantly, Duke was awake and barking. The creature turned and leapt off the bed, losing a tinny snarl at the dogs. Duke, now awake and realising that he needed to defend his family, didn’t back down. He let out his own snarl, deeper and angry. The creature immediately cowed, slinking backwards as Duke advanced. Roman woke with a start at the barking, and fumbled frantically until he lit a candle. 

When the light touched the room, Virgil’s body unfroze. He shot bolt upright, gasping, just in time to watch the creature flee out the window. Duke rushed the window after it, but didn’t follow it out into the night. He stood underneath the sill, growling terribly, then jumped up on the bed. He sniffed around Virgil’s feet for a few seconds, then nosed at Virgil and Roman’s faces, checking them over for injuries. When he was satisfied that they were ok, he went back to Duchess and the puppies, and checked them over for injuries as well. 

“What the hell just happened?” Roman turned to Virgil, his eyes wide. 

Virgil could speak again, but he had no words to say. He simply shook his head and laid a hand over his chest. Beneath his palm, he could feel his heart racing. Roman looked him over, then put his own hand over Virgil’s. After a moment, he heard Roman mutter a curse and then was pulled into the other man’s chest. Neither one of them slept a wink until the sun was already rising over the mountains. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeesh sorry this took so long. It’s been a hell of a semester for me at school and I have not had the right mindset to work on this part of the story. I really need to be in a certain mood to get the scenery for this one right and spending 6-7 hours in a physics lab every day, while fun, does not give me the proper ambiance needed to describe this town I've created. I did start on Patton’s storyline tho, so check that out if you haven’t already. Fair warning, it’s heavier than this is on the emotional stuff, but it’ll give you insight into what’s going on and what Virgil’s beef with the villagers is. Next chapter will have Logan in it!


	4. Part 4

Patton was at Roman’s cabin before dawn the next morning, basket in hand and cloaks slung over his arm. Virgil didn’t know how Patton knew about the attack, but he was too tired to question it. 

“We need to see Logan.” Were the first words out of Roman’s mouth. 

Patton nodded gravely. “I know.”

“Whatever the hell that creature was, Logan is the only one who might have a clue.” Virgil sighed and rubbed his eyes. His head ached, and he knew that Roman’s did too. “Can you sneak us into the town?”

Patton smiled and set the basket down. Virgil hadn’t noticed it when he’d opened the door for his brother, but Patton also looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and Virgil didn’t miss the hasting folding of the cover in the basket. Clearly, Patton had gotten up very early to collect herbs or something, despite Virgil asking him to stay indoors until sunrise. Although, it wasn’t like Patton would have been attacked last night anyway, since the creature was too busy attacking Virgil. 

Patton handed the cloaks slung over his arm to Virgil and Roman. “I can’t sneak you in myself, but you should be able to make it to Logan’s tower without being spotted as long as you leave before sunrise. There is a festival today, and so most people won’t be awake until a bit later. Roman, you know the way to Logan’s tower, right?”

Roman nodded. “I do. Why can’t you come with us?”

Patton lifted the basket. “I have some things I need to do today. And tomorrow, come to think of it. I’m going to be pretty busy with this festival.” He smiled ruefully and shrugged. 

“I’ll have much more time on my hands after that’s done, though.”

Virgil wasn’t sure why the tired smile on his face was unsettling, but it was. Patton was his brother, however, so Virgil trusted him. He took one of the cloaks and slung it across his shoulders. It wasn’t particularly well-made, but it was plenty big enough to completely hide him. When he pulled the hood up, it fell past his nose easily. Roman donned the second cloak, and they looked at each other. 

“I guess we’d better go.” Roman said quietly. 

Virgil nodded, then surprised himself by reaching out to quickly hug Patton. Patton clung to him for a brief instant before they separated again. They walked out of Roman’s house together, and over the bridge into town before splitting up. 

Patton turned towards the bakery, and Roman pulled the hood down. Virgil followed Roman into the village, heading towards Logan’s tower. The houses were familiar, but strange in the half-light of dawn. Virgil didn’t dare to look up from his feet as they walked, not wanting to risk being seen. It wasn’t likely that the villagers would even recognise him, but he didn’t want to risk the difficulty that his presence would bring for Roman and Patton. 

As they walked, Virgil could see the preparations for a festival strewn around. There were red ribbons lying on the ground, little yellow pinwheels dotting window boxes, and orange flags crumpled between cobblestones. The colours reminded him of something, but Virgil couldn’t quite place what. 

After a few minutes, he ran into Roman’s back. Roman had stopped walking, and Virgil allowed himself to chance a glance upwards. They’d stopped in front of a tower, Logan’s tower. Virgil had seen the tower every day when he’d lived in the village, but had never been since Logan had moved in. He hadn’t really seen any of the town since he’d been kicked out. It looked better than he remembered it, to be honest. It seemed like Logan had stripped off some of the moss growing around the door, and refitted the metal filings. It looked nice.

Roman glanced at him, and Virgil nodded. He raised a hand and knocked on the door. The knock was deep and thudding, but the stones seemed to do a good job of muffling the sound. For almost a minute, they couldn’t hear anything inside. 

Then, the door opened. Logan looked out at them, his glasses askew and his hair sticking up on one side, like he’d fallen asleep face-first on top of a book. He blinked at them for several seconds, then quickly ushered them inside. 

“Patton told me you’d be here early, but I didn’t realise how early he meant.” Logan grumbled. “I haven’t even started on breakfast yet.”

Logan led them into the tower, which turned out to be much larger on the inside than Virgil had initially appreciated. On the first floor, Logan had a bed, a crowded desk, several shelves of bubbling jars, and a strange metal oven. The oven had a pipe which ran up the wall, through the floor of the second floor, and presumably out the roof. There were some worn wooden stairs that hugged the side of the tower, and lead up to the second floor. Looking along the steps, Virgil could see that the second floor was lined with bookshelves, and filled with strange glass baubles. The majority of Logan’s healing supplies must be up there. 

“Have you eaten? I can cook for all of us.” Logan asked through a yawn, heading over to the stove. He opened it up and raked through the ashes a few times, before adding a couple pieces of hardwood to the glowing embers inside. 

“If it’s not too much trouble, we haven’t eaten.” Roman said, very formally, and Virgil realised that he didn’t know if Roman and Logan had met before. Both of them had spent days with Virgil, but he’d never actually discussed either of them with the other. 

“Logan, have you met Roman before?” He asked. 

Logan shook his head, busy with putting a kettle on the top of the strange oven. “Not really. We are mutually aware of each other, as residents of the same village.”

“Ah.” Virgil looked between the two men. “Well, Logan, this is Roman. He spends much of the winter months with me. He brings me game, and I cook it for us. Roman, this is Logan. He forages for mushrooms with me, shares his knowledge of medicine with me, and helped me build my watering system. 

Virgil hesitated for a moment. “You are both very dear friends to me.”

Roman beamed outright, and Logan turned to give Virgil a slight, soft smile. 

They all stood around in a contented silence while Logan brewed tea. When the tea was done, he handed them mugs, directed them to sit down, and began cooking some eggs. 

“So, I did some research into the creature that attacked the town. I studied medicine and healing in the capitol, but I also dabbled a little in magic studies, as a hobby. Unfortunately, unlike Virgil, I cannot do magic myself, so it was largely confined to books of lore and magical creatures.” Logan began talking as he cooked. “Based on the description of the animal, and the tail you brought me, the creature is definitely magical. It’s not anything like I’ve ever read about before, but that’s not terribly surprising. Magical creatures are just like normal creatures, with a few peculiarities. There is a wide variety of them, and it’s entirely possible that this particular creature is only found in this little corner of the kingdom.”

“So you don’t know anything that can help us?” Roman said, the tension in his voice evident. Logan turned and gave him a stern look over the rims of his glasses, and Roman seemed to deflate a little. “I’m sorry, that was rude. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Logan gave him a long look before turning back to the eggs. “It is alright. You are correct that I don’t know anything about the creature itself, beyond what you’ve told me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know anything useful. Magical creatures, as I was saying, are rather similar to non-magical creatures. The village has never had a problem with attacks like this in recorded memory, so I think it is safe to say that the village is not part of the creature’s usual routine. Something must be forcing it out of the forest and into the village. That could be a larger or more dangerous magical creature, a lack of prey, or some other kind of disturbance. Based on the description, and the tail, I think we can draw a few conclusions. Virgil, you said that the creature fled into the forest both times you saw it?”

Virgil nodded. “Yeah. We tried to track it but it knew how to evade us.”

Logan flipped the eggs off the pan and onto some plates. He handed the plates and forks to Virgil and Roman, before joining them at the table. "Given everything, I think it would be reasonable to assume that the creature might have a den or nest somewhere in the forest. If you could manage to track it back there, you would stand a greater chance at learning what is driving it towards the town."

Virgil stuffed some egg in his mouth and thought about it. "Do you think we'll have to kill it?"

"Yes, of course we do. It's killed someone already, and it attacked you in our bed last night." Roman put this hand flat on the table, making the plates rattle.

"No, you don't. Violence won't solve everything." Logan glared at Roman, though his eyes flitted to Virgil nervously. "The creature may not need to be killed if it's not inherently dangerous. Maybe it's simply hungry, or trying to protect its young. You shouldn't kill anything unless you have no choice, and we don't know what kind of consequences its death could bring."

Roman returned Logan's glare. "That's very optimistic of you,  _ healer _ , but we can't go around pretending that all life is too sacred to kill when the creature itself does not share the same opinions about our lives."

Virgil grabbed Roman's elbow, making the other man pause. "Logan, we won't kill the creature unless we have to, but it has already killed a man. And it has very much threatened me."

"Very well." Logan looked slightly displeased but nodded. 

Roman looked miffed at having been interrupted, but seemed pacified by Virgil’s words. They finished breaking their fasts in a tense silence.

When they were done eating, Logan offered to show them around his medical equipment upstairs, something he’d told Virgil much about. Logan’s knowledge and obvious passion for his work eased Roman’s irritation at the other man. Virgil was grateful for that, since they couldn’t leave Logan’s tower until night fell and the celebrating villagers went to bed. 

~*~

When they were finally able to leave, Logan and Roman had managed to put aside most of their differences. It was well past nightfall, but Virgil had missed Logan’s visits and had let them stay for longer than he’d intended. And, if he was being honest, he was slightly dreading sleeping tonight. On the walk back to Roman’s cabin, they didn’t speak for fear of being heard and caught, but Roman’s hand crept into his. It was a simple gesture, but enough to convey Roman’s own worry. 

They had eaten with Logan, so there was little to do once they got back to the cabin besides feeding Duke, Duchess, and the puppies. They both dragged out the event more than they normally would have, playing with Duke and the puppies until the puppies were falling asleep and both men were yawning. 

Several hours after dusk, they finally climbed into bed. Roman pulled the blankets up over them, and blew out the candle. Though it was dark, Virgil could still sense Roman’s gaze on him.

“If it comes again tonight, we chase it down.” Roman whispered. “I don’t want to let it kill you.”

Virgil smiled. “It won’t kill me so soon. It took more than three days to kill that farmer, right?”

“Yes, but that’s no guarantee that it’ll do the same for you.”

Virgil rolled onto his back. “I want to spend at least one more day trying to track it in the daylight. Just in case there are traps or something.” 

“If it lives in the forest and is being driven out into the village, do you really think it’s laid traps?” Roman huffed. 

Virgil thought about it. “No, I suppose not. Still, I want to be sure.”

“If you really think you have the time, then I’ll listen to your call.” Roman said, his voice thin. “But if not, if you think there is any chance that the creature might try to kill you tonight, or tomorrow night, then I will follow it into the forest as soon as I see it, regardless of how dark it may be. I will not allow it to kill you.”

Virgil nodded, then realised Roman couldn’t see that motion. Instead, he reached across the sheets to find Roman’s finger with his own. “Alright.”

They were silent after that, and it took a long time for Roman’s breathing to deepen and even out. 

~*~

Virgil didn’t even realise he’d fallen asleep until he woke up again. It was just like the last time, his limbs frozen in place, but this time the weight was on his chest. Drawing in breath was hard, and Virgil could feel the pinpricks of the creature’s claws on his chest. The little points of pain radiated out heat from where they touched his skin. 

Virgil forced his eyes open, and immediately wished he hadn’t. The creature was indeed on his chest, and terribly close to him. Its breath washed over him, sour and sharp, like nothing he’d smelled before and like nothing he wanted to smell again. This close, he could see the little bits of  _ something  _ stuck between the creature’s uneven teeth. He hoped it was leaves or plant matter. He knew it wasn’t. 

**_“Give me back my taily-po.”_ **

The creature spoke in the same grating voice, and now Virgil was close enough to see the way that the flesh deep inside the creature’s throat rippled with motion. 

“Why are you here?” Virgil asked. His words slurred slightly as his lips refused to obey him. 

**_“Give me back my taily-po!”_ **

The creature spoke again, more forceful than before, but the same words. Virgil briefly wondered if that was all the creature could say, but then remembered that the creature had spoken other things the previous night.

“Please, I want to help you. Is something driving you out of the forest?” Just like before, the longer Virgil was awake, the more control he regained. Curiously, he examined himself mentally, and found something like magic was responsible for holding him down. 

**_“Give me back my taily-po or DIE!”_ **

The last word was a shout, mentally and physically, and Virgil reacted in the only way he could. 

With a cry for Duke, he pushed against the magic restraining him and sat up. The creature was thrown to the floor, and Roman woke as Duke started barking. Before anything could move, Virgil created a bubble of light. It was red, and not very strong, but enough to illuminate the room without a candle. The creature on the floor snarled at Virgil and Duke, before fleeing out of the window. 

“That thing was going to kill you, we go after it now!” Roman took one look at Virgil and got up, pulling shoes on and grabbing his bow off the table. Virgil couldn’t find it in him to protest. 

He got up and grabbed his own shoes. As he bent over to put them on, he realised that the front of his shirt had been shredded by the creature’s claws. The tears went up to his collarbone. If that thing crept higher every night, then he would indeed be dead by tomorrow. 

When he’d pulled his shoes on, he looked up to see Roman standing by the door with Duke, looking at him expectantly. 

Virgil stood up and nodded. “We go after it now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter, but I'll be making up for it in the next one I promise. Got a lot of plot coming in there. Also, that last chapter of Dreamwalker ended up being twice as long as i had intended so i don't feel that bad lol  
> Also I know I'm terrible at responding to comments but pls know if you commented I have seen it and I cherish it, y'all make my fucking day with your comments


	5. Part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter of this part of the story!!!!

The moment that Virgil and Roman stepped into the forest, squished together in the saddle of his horse, Virgil knew it would be a difficult ride. Roman's arms were already reaching around him to hold on to the reins, but Virgil still had to lean back into his chest. Duke was jogging alongside them, his smaller form weaving easily through underbrush that impeded Lady. 

"Roman?" Virgil said, his voice coming out strained. "Follow Duke, no matter what you see or hear, and don't let me fall off this horse."

Roman made an alarmed, questioning noise, but if he said anything after that, Virgil couldn't hear it. He slumped against Roman, letting his eyes fall shut as the full onset of the forest hit him. 

Virgil had always known that the forest was almost sentient in its own right, full of life and old, old magic. It was why he'd fled there after being thrown from the village. He'd even drawn on the forest's magic a handful of times, when it had permitted him to. He had never felt it used against him before. 

The forest wasn't fully against him, he could tell. But the creature, clearly, also had some magical connection to it and was using that to try to stop them from tracking it. That must have been why it had been so impossible to track the creature in the day time. 

The forest's magic was relatively light at first, creating a mild sense of uneasiness and ill. The same kind of magic Virgil had felt a couple of times before, on moonless nights, when the lake outside his hut stirred and the forest told him to hide and sleep so nothing could find him. It was nothing that Virgil couldn't handle, but he knew that if he allowed Lady or Duke to feel it, they would spook and flee. So, his only choice was to shield all of his companions by taking the full force of the forest's magic. 

As they rode deeper, Virgil couldn't fully block the magic. Time started to slip away from him. The shadows began to twist and move, lunging out in strange patterns in his peripheral vision. He let Roman see them, because he knew Roman could handle them. The shadows faded when a mist began to creep in, a mist that was both magical and physical. Virgil could have blown the mist away, but it seemed to be more scary than dangerous, so he decided to save his strength. 

When the mist had set in as thick as a wall, and the only thing visible was the white tip of Duke's tail, the voices started. Virgil knew it was magic because he could feel it, but Roman didn't. Virgil had to grab his wrist when they began to keep him from veering off the course. 

Some of the voices Virgil recognised, the ones that were meant for him. Patton, Logan, his mom. Others were meant for Roman, people from his past. A man who sounded like Roman. A boy with a nasally laugh. A girl with anguish in her tone. At first, the voices cajoled and giggled, entreating them to come into the mist, to stop their hunt. As they rode on, the laughter turned to screams. Their loved ones cried out in pain, pleaded and begged for Virgil and Roman to come save them. Virgil could feel drops of tears hitting the back of his neck, and he knew his own face was also wet. The screams turned back into laughter, but cruel and twisted. The voices scorned and mocked them, and shadowed silhouettes appeared from the mists. Lady went on, unaware of the voices or the shapes as Virgil hid them from her, but he could feel every startle and twitch in Roman's body as they passed horrible figure after horrible figure. They passed a young boy raising a knife to slash at them, a woman who Virgil thought could have been his mom going to hang herself, and a mob with raised pitchforks. 

Then, the shadows faded away and the voices stopped. Virgil braced himself for some new onslaught as he felt the forest's magic swell, but then it seemed to quiet out. 

Before he could even think to relax, Lady burst through a wall of mist and stopped so suddenly that she reared up slightly. Duke ran around them, barking furiously, and Virgil heard Roman's shocked inhale as they both took in the scene around them. 

The fog hadn't thinned, not exactly, but it had dropped to hug the ground in a massive circle. Looking up, Virgil could see that they were in a clearing of some kind, and that the trees ringing the clearing were dead. They'd been dead for long enough for the wind and rot to have stripped away the soft outer bark, leaving only the harder inner wood, white as bone and sharp as stakes. The shape of a tower rose from the mist, jutting and malevolent, over what Virgil assumed must be a ruined courtyard. The first hints of dawn were peaking over the trees to the east, but it wasn't yet strong enough to touch the tower. He'd never been to this part of the forest before, but he could feel the old, powerful magic that steeped the ruins. 

Roman seemed to be able to feel it too, as he cautiously dismounted from Lady. He helped Virgil down, then tied her off to the tree. She didn't seem inclined to move from where she'd stopped, anyway. Duke hovered around their feet, growling into the fog. He didn't seem willing to go in any further either, so Roman attached his collar to the horn of Lady's saddle with a coil of rope. Roman then drew his one of  his hunting knives from his belt and looked at Virgil. He gestured towards the other knife, offering it, but Virgil shook his head. They stepped into the ruins together.

They moved forward together, slowly, but it still only took a few seconds for the fog to close completely around them. Duke's barking echoed unsettlingly, and Virgil quickly realised he couldn't tell which direction it was coming from. 

"Dawn is coming soon." Virgil whispered to Roman. Talking didn't seem appropriate. "It'll burn away this fog and we'll be able to get out."

Roman nodded, but it didn't seem to ease any of the anxiety on his face. "Can you sense the creature at all?" 

Virgil hesitated and realised he couldn't. "No, I can't. This place is… too loud. It covers up that thing completely."

Roman frowned and gripped his knife more tightly. By silent agreement, they shifted so their backs were towards each other, looking out into the fog. They crept ever closer to the tower. 

"Is this your home? Why did you leave it?" Virgil called out into the fog.

 **_"Where is my taily-po?"_ ** The creature's voice came hissing out of the mist. Like Duke's barks, it echoed off the tower walls and many other unseen surfaces around them, making locating it impossible. 

Virgil's eyes scanned around frantically, but he knew it made no difference. The fog was so thick near the ground that Virgil could barely see his knees. It was the perfect height for the creature to sneak up on them. They wouldn't even notice it until it was too late. 

"I don't have your tail. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken it, but you can't kill those people in the town. Trust me, I don't like them any more than you do. Most of them don't deserve to die, though." The sun should have started to burn away the fog by now, Virgil realised. It had continued to rise since they'd gotten there, but the mist hadn't lessened. 

 **_"If you don't have my taily-po, then you must DIE!"_ ** The creature's voice rose to a shriek and Virgil fought not to clap his hands over his ears. The air around them rang with the sound of nails scraping across stone. His back hit Roman's, and they pressed close together, watching for any movement in the mists.

Virgil saw nothing, but then awareness tingled in the back of his head and his body moved before he could think about it. Grabbing the hilt of Roman's other hunting knife, he yanked it out of Roman's belt and turned slightly to his left. A dark shape came flying at him out of nowhere, sinking into the blade. Pain like fire erupted across his forearms as the creature clawed at him in its dying throes. With a grunt, he tossed the creature off to the side. It landed on the shattered cobblestone of the courtyard, mist dissolving out from around it, and jerked several times before falling limp. Virgil stared at it, then jumped when he felt something lightly brush his wrists. 

He looked down to see Roman examining the scratches. 

"Roman." Virgil waited for the other man to meet his eyes. "We did it. I'm not in danger any more, neither are you or Logan or Patton. It's over." 

With the mist clearing around them as the sun's rays finally hit the ground, Virgil felt relief sweep through him and he smiled. 

Roman smiled back at him, though he still looked worried. "Yes, but you're hurt pretty badly. These are deep wounds, Virgil."

Virgil finally looked down at his arms. Roman was right, they looked bad. They felt bad, too. There were deep scores in his forearms, running parallel down his skin. They were bleeding heavily and Virgil could feel the toll that it was taking on his body. His muscles were protesting and shaking, and he was sure Roman could feel that. 

 But now the creature was gone, and the forest was back to being silent and neutral. Virgil closed his eyes and focused, drawing power from it and from himself. Maybe it was just his imagination, but the forest seemed to give up energy to him more readily than usual, like it was apologising for everything. He heard Roman gasp and knew it was working, his arms knitting themselves back together. 

When he opened his eyes, his arms were still bloody, but whole. Roman ran his fingertips over the new skin gently, a look of amazement on his face. 

"You still have some scars." Roman said, tracing his first finger down the line of one. 

Virgil nodded. "I just sped up the healing process. They would have scarred regardless." He grinned. "You were right. They were pretty deep."

Roman looked at his, his face a confusing blend of emotion. It looked like exasperation and relief and something else that Virgil couldn't quite place. 

"What?" Virgil squeezed Roman's hand where it was on his forearm still. "I'm fine now."

"You beautiful idiot." Roman leaned forward and kissed him. 

It was just a brief press of lips, but Virgil couldn't shove down the warm bubble of affection that burst in his chest when they parted. 

"Roman, I-"

Every thought in Virgil's head simultaneously vanished as, over Roman's shoulder, someone else walked into the ruins. Roman noticed, and whirled around instantly, knife already in hand again as he pushed Virgil behind him. They realised together who the newcomer was, and froze in surprise.

“Patton?” Virgil stepped around Roman, calling out to his brother. Almost on instinct, he reached out with his magic, trying to see if the image of his brother was some sort of illusion from the forest, or a final trick from the creature. It wasn’t. Patton really was there. 

Patton noticed them, and grinned. He continued to walk towards them. Despite being sure that it was his brother, whom he loved dearly, Virgil felt unsettled. He could feel something… off. He grabbed Roman’s arm and gently pulled the other man so that they were side by side. 

As Patton got closer, the sunlight that had started to creep across the cobblestones illuminated him, and Virgil saw the flecks and splashes of red that coated Patton. They were all up his hands, arms, across his shirt and across his face. Virgil didn’t want to believe it, but it was impossible not to know what it was. Blood. 

“You killed the Taily-po! And you’re not hurt too badly?” Patton asked, still grinning the slightly unsettling grin. He peered at Virgil’s arms, which were still bloody themselves. 

“The what?” Roman glanced at Virgil, then looked back at Patton, obviously equally unsettled. “Virgil killed the creature, yes, and healed himself.”

Patton nodded. “The Taily-po is what I’ve been calling the creature. That’s what it’s been asking for, right? It’s taily-po? I’m glad you’re not hurt anymore, though.”

Virgil looked closely at his brother, and realised a couple of things. One, the blood was all dried, and therefore old. Two, he had dark circles under his eyes and was sweating fairly hard. Three, the only horse Virgil could see was Lady, and he knew it must have taken them at least four hours, if not five, to make it to these ruins by dawn. Patton must have left the village hours before they did in order to reach this place at the same time, if he truly had come here on foot. 

“Pat? What happened to you?” Virgil asked, dread growing in the pit of his stomach. Patton’s eyes were glassy with exhaustion, but his grin hadn’t wavered. It looked stale. 

“Oh, nothing, I just finished up cleaning up a mess.” Patton hesitated then, and looked off to the side. He spoke again, but it was closer to muttering and Virgil wasn’t sure if he was even meant to hear it. “Though, I guess there’s no need to lie any more, is there? I’m done now.”

“Patton?” Roman took a half step forward, his arm out, and Patton’s attention snapped back to them. His eyes were bright, but still unsettlingly unfocused. 

“Sorry, I’m just so tired. I walked all night to get here, and I had a very long day, too. He certainly didn’t make it easy on me.” Patton nodded again. “Right. Virgil, I killed that priest. The one you tried to kill and they threw you out of the village for it? The pedophile one. I poisoned him, paralysed him, and beat him to death with a brick. He can’t hurt any more children now, or ever again. I expect the villagers will be finding him soon, so we’d best not tell any one that the creature is dead, alright Roman? Let them think the Taily-po did it.”

At that, Virgil took a step forward, towards his brother. His mind raced. “You did what? I- how? You weren’t supposed to know _why_ I attacked him. I never told you, I never told anyone! How did you know? Did he hurt you?”  

He reached out a hand in an aborted motion to pull Patton into a protective hug, but Patton waved it off. 

“He didn’t touch me, Vi Vi. I’m a seer.” Patton looked sad for a moment, and then the grin returned. “I couldn’t tell you, but I have magic too. I know why we both have magic, it’s because of the man who helped create us. He was a faerie. I can tell you all of this later, though. Right now, I believe I have a promise to keep.”

Virgil was stunned, but he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Instead, he watched Patton in mute amazement. 

His brother turned away from them and walked around the side of the tower, clearly looking for something. Roman’s fingers tangled with Virgil’s and they shared a look, both confused and scared, but left with no choice but to follow Patton. 

Virgil couldn’t help but see him in a new light, and he wasn’t sure if it was just his own perception, or something more. Patton seemed to stand taller, move with more surety, now that he wasn’t hiding his own magic. They followed him around the tower until they found an opening. The arched doorway had survived the ravages of time, but everything inside seemed to have fallen to rot. The wood which had clearly made up the stairs, upper floors, and roof or the tower had collapsed and dissolved, leaving dusty and jagged splinters on the floor. Vines crept up the walls, reaching for the sunlight that peered in through the open top. In the back part of the tower, the shreds of wood had piled together into a stack, as though they’d fallen on top of something. Virgil couldn’t see what, and he hung back as Patton entered the tower alone. 

Patton went straight for the pile, digging his hands into it and tossing the pieces off. Virgil thought about offering to help, but something about the moment seemed so intensely personal that he didn’t. After less than a minute, Patton reached the object that the wood had been covering. 

It was a person. 

More specifically, a man. Virgil couldn’t quite see him over Patton’s shoulder, but he could at least tell that it was a human body that was under there. Virgil was about to ask what the absolute hell was going on when Patton spoke. It was so soft that Virgil almost missed it, and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be hearing it in the first place.  

“You kept your half of our promise, and now it is time for me to keep mine. Time to wake up.”

Patton reached down towards the body, and hugged it? No, that wasn’t quite right. Virgil couldn’t quite see, so he couldn’t be sure, but it looked like Patton was _kissing_ the body. Patton stood back up, and brought the body up with him. No, that wasn’t right either. Patton was helping the body stand up, except the body was no longer a body but a living person. And not quite a man, either. 

The thing that had formerly been a body, that was now standing in front of Virgil’s little brother, was not human. He had  yellow eyes with the slit pupils of a predator, slightly tapered ears, and his skin shimmered in a pattern of golden scales when the light caught it. The only word Virgil could think of to describe him was one that Patton himself had said a few minutes before. Faerie. 

The faerie’s gaze shifted then, and caught Virgil’s. For an instant, Virgil felt like the rabbit caught in the eyes of a snake. Trapped, frozen, helpless. Then the faerie looked away. He glanced at Roman, then looked back to Patton and smiled, revealing the two sharp fangs in his mouth. 

“Hello, little seer.”

 

~*~

 

Back in the courtyard, where none of them were watching, the body of the Taily-po slowly finished bleeding. The body of a magical creature is still bound to the rules of nature, like everything else, and so the blood followed the path of least resistance. It rolled between the cracks in the stone courtyard, running downwards until it met dirt. It seeped into the soil, moistening the earth below. It diffused evenly throughout the ground, until it met something that was not the loose clumps of sand and pine and gravel. The blood spread around those objects that it could not flow through, and slowly, the old bones beneath the cobblestone began to stir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do we feel about this ending lads? :)  
> Full disclosure, it may be a hot second before we get another installation of this series, but there will be another part, I promise. I just have to get all the plot stuff worked out, and I also need _someone_ *cough cough thomas* to hurry up and give us a new name drop. In the mean time, send me questions or theories on tumblr! I have one specifically for this au, [@sanders-sides-entwined-au](https://sanders-sides-entwined-au.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, I live off comments and kudos. 
> 
> Also, as with all of my works, fan art is absolutely ok, just make sure you tag me so I can see!! I'm moonlightinwater on tumblr.


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